let me love him
by glitter blizzard
Summary: Imogen Weasley wants her brothers to stop meddling in her relationship. Oliver Wood just worries for everyone's safety.


Written for The Original Character Competition Round Two :)

_Prompts used;_

_**Pairing: **_Oliver/OC

_**Emotion:**_ Anger

_**Word:** _Paper.

**_Phrase:_**"How dare he/she?!"

_**OC Feature:** _is the triplet of Fred and George.

* * *

'I'm not happy.' Imogen declared upon entering her boyfriend's dorm room. Said boyfriend halted his push ups, looking up to give his girlfriend a questioning look. All thoughts of the gits she had for brothers promptly left her brain when she noticed Oliver was not wearing a shirt. She felt heat rise to her cheeks and her heart slamming against her rib cage as it started to beat erratically at the sight of him. Man, was her boyfriend _hot. _'Never mind that now.' She murmured as she walked up to him, eyes burning with desire. Oliver recognised the look in her eyes and stood up nervously, glancing at the bathroom door.

'Uh, Gen, I don't –' He was cut off by Imogen, who crashed her lips on his, her cool hands raising to rest on his chest. He felt goosebumps break out on his skin at her touch, and he couldn't help but get lost in the kiss. He wrapped his big, long arms around her petite body and pulled her closer into the embrace, deepening the kiss as he went.

Imogen moaned into the kiss, pushing him in the direction of the nearest bed, not caring if it was Oliver's or someone else's. It could be her brother's for all she cared at the moment.

Oliver landed heavily on the bed with her on the top of him, and that seemed to snap him out of his hormonal, teenage boy daze. He pulled away, as much as he could with Imogen being so persistent, and tried to speak. 'Gen, we can't—' She kissed him again, hands travelling further down his body. He tensed, going completely rigid as Imogen hooked her finger around the waist band of his work-out shorts. Imogen sensed this and pulled away, frowning in confusion.

'What's wrong with—'

'_What _is going on here?'

Imogen froze for a moment, wide eyes meeting the equally wide eyes of her boyfriend. 'I tried to tell you!' He mouthed when her wide eyed stare slowly narrowed into a glare, and she sighed in annoyance, climbing off him. She shifted around and looked at her older brother, who had just exited the bathroom dressed in a long fluffy bathroom, his curly red hair dripping wet. Despite that, his glasses were perched on his long nose and his blue eyes were both angry and scandalised.

'What were you doing?' He asked, somehow managing to look and sound even more as a git, even dressed in a ridiculous bath robe. _That takes talent_, Imogen couldn't help but think, half with admiration, half with irritation. His eyes widened an inch. '_On my bed_?'

'Uh, sorry.' Oliver said awkwardly, quickly climbing off the bed and making his way over to the side of his own bed. He glanced at Imogen, who was still lying on her brother's bed, looking very disgruntled.

'Well, someone has to make sure this bed sees _some _action.' She said haughtily, a smirk identical to her brothers' Fred and George appearing on her face.

Percy's cheeks went tomato red. 'Get up!' He ordered, clearly trying to remain composed and mature. 'Have you no shame? You are _fifteen! _What would mum and dad say?'

Imogen got off the bed and stood up. 'I'm fifteen. I can make my own decisions, thank you. Mum likes Oliver, for your information. Besides, it's not any of their business what I do with my boyfriend. It's between me and Oliver. Right, babe?' Percy's face contorted at the term of endearment, as if he had tasted something particularly foul. Imogen only glared, and then turned to look at her boyfriend, who was busy slipping a shirt over his naked upper body.

'Er... sure.' Oliver replied, somehow sensing she was glaring at him, even with his eyes covered by the shirt.

'See.' Imogen said, looking at her brother. She crossed her arms over her chest and raised her eyebrows. 'Anything else you want to add?'

'Yes.' Percy said severely, pushing his glasses up his nose. 'I will not allow my sister to have the reputation of a... of a...'

Imogen's eyes narrowed as rage even stronger than the one she felt before welled up in her. 'Of a what?' She asked dangerously, hissing her words slightly. 'What exactly, Percy?'

'A... a scarlet woman!' Percy exclaimed loudly. Oliver snorted loudly in the background and both Percy and Imogen turned to look at him. His amused grin quickly slid off his face and his expression turned solemn.

'Don't call my girlfriend that, Weasley.' Oliver said seriously, although it was clear he was trying to keep the smile off his face. Imogen couldn't blame him. Why couldn't her brother call things by their names? Seriously, no one under the age of forty-five used 'scarlet woman' as a way to call someone a slag.

'First of all—' Imogen started, taking a threatening step towards her brother. 'Oliver is my boyfriend and I'm allowed to do whatever I want with him.' Percy blanched at the implications, which only served to annoy Imogen more. 'Second of all, you and Ron, and Fred and George need to grow the bloody hell up before I beat you all to a bloody pulp. I'm sick of you trying to dictate my life, telling me what's right and what's not. I'm not five anymore. Third of all, if you ever, ever, dare to call me a slut again, I'm going to hex your tongue off and I'm going to make sure there's no reverse charm to fix it!' Imoges was screaming by the end of her tirade, her cheeks as red as her hair and her small hands clenched into fists.

Oliver recognised that she was really upset about this and quickly approached her, wrapping one arm around her. He glared at Percy. 'See what you did?'

Percy puffed up his chest when Oliver addressed him, as if his skinny, bathrobe clad frame was supposed to be somewhat intimidating to Oliver, whose shoulders were as wide as his dresser. 'You are the one who is going to get her in trouble!' He accused. 'Imogen needs to focus on her studies! It's her OWL year. She can't afford to be distracted by boys, especially by the likes of you!' He turned to Imogen. 'Mum and Dad will be very disappointed if you become just like Fred and George!'

'Not everyone needs to be a bloody stuck-up, uptight, consumed by ambitions, ego-inflated _prat _to get good scores!' Imogen screamed, barely keeping herself from lunging at him. 'Fred and George are a lot smarter than you give them credit for! You've always refused to see it. You always ridicule them but you know nothing! At least people like them. You always say how Ron, Ginny and I have to be more like you. Well, we don't to because no one likes you!' By the time she was finished, Percy was pale and wide eyed.

Imogen breathed heavily as she glared at her brother, feeling like steam might come out of her ears any moment now. It felt so good to let it all out, though. Percy always underestimated her, Fred and George. He was either condescending towards them or he was trying to control them and steer them down the 'right path'. Yeah, the right path right into Aloneville. No, _thank you._

'Um, Gen...' Oliver spoke softly, glancing at Percy with a little pity. 'I think you might have gone a bit far...'

Imogen looked sharply at him. 'No, I didn't. How dare he—'

She was interrupted by the door opening loudly with a bang, slamming into the wall. Fred and George sauntered in, curious smiles on their faces. 'Well, well, what's going on here?' Fred asked as he looked between them eagerly. 'We heard your dulcet tones all the way down to our dorm, dear sister.' Fred told her, his smile widening.

George's smile matched Fred's. 'I'm quite sure everyone in the tower heard you, actually. Why did you feel the need to exercise your voice box, Gen?'

'Percy was being a git.' Imogen replied with a scowl, looking at said git, who had regained control over his emotions upon Fred and George's arrival.

'What else is new?' Fred asked.

'He's usually a git, sis. You must to have noticed.' George added.

'Was he being a bigger git than usual?' Fred asked with his eyebrows raised high on his forehead to show his disbelief at such thing happening.

George gasped loudly. 'Is that possible?'

'If you knew what happened, I know you'd be on my side.' Percy snapped.

'On your side?' Fred asked doubtfully, looking at George.

'Doubtful.' George said, disbelieving.

'Shut up!' Imogen spat at Percy as he opened his mouth. 'This is none of your business. Don't you dare say anything to them or I'll never speak to you again!'

'Come on, guys...' Oliver said, looking between the siblings. 'Let's dress up and cool off on the pitch, all right? I always find practices sooth—' He stopped in mid-word when he noticed the four pair of blue eyes, three of them identical, glare at him in unison. He removed his arm from around Imogen in order to raise them in surrendering gesture. 'I was merely suggesting...' he muttered, although he didn't understand how someone wouldn't want to put all their negative emotions into Quidditch.

'Now I'm really curious.' George said, glancing at Fred. 'What about you, Gred?'

'Me too, Forge.' Fred replied, glancing between Imogen and Percy. 'Come on, fess up. What happened?'

'It's nothing!' Imogen snapped, glaring warningly at Percy. 'Don't.' She said, making sure to sound as serious as she could.

Percy looked like he might relent for a few moments, but then something seemed to click in his head and he straightened, the usual mask of pompousness and frankness adorning his face. Imogen's hands clenched into tight fists again, her blue eyes flashing angrily as her brother opened his mouth and spilled everything.

'I found Imogen on top of Wood.' He said, pausing to let that sink into Fred and George's brains. 'In my bed.' He added for effect. It didn't take long for Fred and George's mirthful, easy-going expression to change to one of stony, disapproving mask of misguided big brother protectiveness. They turned their glares on Oliver, who tried not to seem bothered by the calculating spark in their eyes.

'What were you doing to our sister, Wood?' George asked with a scowl.

'Nothing!' Imogen replied before Oliver could, feeling extremely frustrated with her brother's thick-headed immaturity. 'Will you just leave us alone, for fuck's sake?'

'Language, Imogen!' Percy scolded.

'Stop acting like you're mum!' Imogen screamed. 'You're not! I don't care what you say. I don't care what either of you says!' She said, glaring wildly at Fred and George. They were her favourite brothers, and she felt the closest to them, but they were the same like Percy and all her other brothers when it came to her dating. They didn't seem to grasp the fact that she was old enough to make her own decisions, and do things that they'd most likely done by now. (Well, except Percy.) They thought that just because they were _boys _they were allowed this freedom. That was so sexist that it made Imogen's blood boil. 'I love Oliver!' She said, grabbing Oliver's hand tightly in her own. 'And I'm going to be with him, whether you like it or not. I'm going to do whatever I want, and I'm going to do it without asking your permission. And you? You will accept that!' With that being said, she stormed towards the door, dragging Oliver with her. She pushed past her shocked brothers, knocking one of the dressers and causing a stack of thick papers to fall on the ground. She ignored it, storming in the hallway, stomping down the stairs with Oliver closely in her wake.

'Whoa, whoa!' Oliver exclaimed. 'Slow down, Gen!''

Imogen's shoulders started to shake as she tried to suppress her angry and frustrated tears. Oliver sensed her sadness and made her stop in the middle of staircase between the second and third year dormitories. He turned her around gently and brushed the red hair away from her face to cup her cheeks. 'Gen.' He said softly.

Imogen looked up, her blue eyes shining with unshed tears. 'I hate how they act!' She said, sniffing. 'I hate how they just won't accept me as a grown up! I hate that I have to fight with them because of this. I hate fighting with them.'

'I know, I know.' Oliver said, pulling her in a hug. That seemed to set off something in her, because as soon as her face collided his chest, she let go of all of her emotions and burst into tears. Oliver still felt slightly awkward and unsure of himself as he tried to comfort her, but it was nothing like the first time she'd cried in his presence. They'd lost against Ravenclaw, and she blamed herself for it. It was when he realised that his feelings were true and deep, and far exceeded mere physical attraction. He'd put aside his own disappointment, anger and devastation caused by their loss and had tried to comfort her. Granted, he'd sucked at it, patting her back awkwardly with a little too much force, and generally telling her that yeah, maybe she was a little guilty but they had another game coming! But it was the thought that counted, as Imogen had informed him later, just before she kissed him for the first time.

Oliver couldn't help but smile a blissful smile that made him look like he'd been hit on the head by one too many bludgers (which, for the record, he had). He'd never thought he'd find a girl that would _endure_, let alone accept and find endearing, his extreme and deep love for Quidditch that, as many people had told him (his mother included), was borderline an obsession. She was a gift to him, and he hated seeing her unhappy.

He just didn't know what to say or do to make her happy again.

Finally, she seemed to calm down somehow, and Oliver felt her pull away. He watched her as he wiped away the tears from her cheeks and eyes, all the while avoiding looking at him. He knew she hated crying in front of him. She thought it made her look weak or some other nonsense. Oliver supposed it was because she'd grown up with so many brothers and only one baby sister she was never very close to.

'Olly—' Oliver was immediately alert. Imogen rarely referred to him as 'Olly' and when she did, she usually wanted something from him. Something he wasn't going to like at all. When he met her gaze, he knew he was doomed. She had that glimmer in her eyes, the one he was always wary of because it reminded her of her troublemaking brothers too much. 'You have to help him teach them a lesson.' She said in a conspiratorial whisper, smirking in a way that both thrilled him and scared him slightly. 'Oh, I have the perfect thing in mind!' She said excitedly, glancing up the stairs with an evil spark in her eyes.

Oliver wasn't especially close to any of her brothers, and he didn't appreciate their constant meddling in their relationship, but he still couldn't help but feel very sorry for them. After all, Fred and George were his beaters, and they were good beaters! But he knew that there was no way he could make her change her mind, and she was going to do it with or without his help.

He might as well join and make sure she didn't do any long-lasting damage on his beaters. They had a match in week and a half, after all.

'Well, will you help me?' Imogen asked, her eyes going all wide and pleading. She needn't have bothered, as he had already made his mind, but it still amused him.

'Of course.' He said, wrapping one arm around her. 'Do I have a choice?'

Imogen smiled happily. 'You are perfect, Olly. You really are.' She kissed him quickly and smiled a genuine smile of love at him, the one he thought made her look the prettiest. 'I love you.'

Oliver smiled, kissing the tip of her nose. (Oh, if any of his friends could see him now...). 'I love you too.'

Imogen was quick the break the romantic moment, of course. She grabbed his hand and started dragging him down the remaining stairs. 'C'mon. I have to go get my stuff from the dorm, and then we have to scheme. It needs to be something humiliating, but also something that will teach them a long-lasting lesson. Something that will make them stop questioning me and seeing me as a little kid... and I think I have the perfect idea... oh, they'll never see that one coming... I'm too brilliant. I'd definitely need dungbombs for this... and maybe some advanced magic but we can pull it off, with you helping me...'

Suddenly, Oliver wondered if it was too late to leave this, while he was unscathed.


End file.
